


Truly, Madly, Deeply

by poppicock



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gabriel Agreste Is Not Hawk Moth, Gabriel Agreste has a brother, Triplets, and another brother, and they're all in love with Nathalie Sancoeur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10030673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppicock/pseuds/poppicock
Summary: The Cast: Nathalie Sancoeur, The Agreste Triplets (Gabriel, Michel, and Raphael).The Scene: A Hot Mess,





	

**Gabriel**  
  
He watched Nathalie stare at his brother and him. She pressed her lips together, desperately trying to tell them apart. It secretly delighted him.  
“Nathalie,” He prompted, “Michel and I will take coffee in the study.”  
The woman looked slightly relieved at the two icebox brothers standing before her. Gabriel and Michel looked as crisp as ever, business men as they were. “For you, Mr. Agreste?”  
Gabriel suppressed a smirk. Of course, his brother most likely would be overjoyed if his assistant called him by his first name, but Michel would never say a word of it.

His brother let out a small breath, doing what he always did, and asked for a black coffee.

“You don’t have to look so smug, Gabriel.” He told him as they made their way towards the study.

He glanced back at Michel, not surprised that he noticed, but surprised that he even mentioned it. “Why would I be smug?”

Michel glared at the man, “I think you can take a guess.”

“Oh come on, just ask her to call you Michel. I’m the only ‘Mr. Agreste’ amongst the three of us.”

He rolled his eyes, “It’s not as though I’m punching valets over the nomenclature.” Michel paused, “have you spoken to Rapheal lately?”

Gabriel clicked his tongue, “You know his restaurant is busy, and he loves the daily operations.”

Michel rolled his eyes at the thought of his brother’s idiotic attempt at running an establishment based around molecular gastronomy. That being said, his chemistry doctorate _was_ being utilized, and the two years he spent ‘finding himself’ (making ramen in microwaves and living a middle class life) did go to some use.

“He moved.” He told his brother, “To an apartment in the same building, but the rent has been cut in half.”

Gabriel frowned. Michel, the freelance accountant, kept track of both of his brother’s personal finances, as he had for a majority of their lives as triplets. “I’m surprised he submitted a change of address in the first place.”

Michel nodded, “The thing is, Gabriel. I think he moved in with someone.”

His eyes flashed to his brother’s, “What?”

“The rent and utilities for that building is consistently double what he’s paying.” He replied, “I figured he’d brag to you about ‘nailing some tail’.”

He groaned at the thought, as he could perfectly visualize his idiot brother saying so. “We could just ask him, Mikky, there’s no reason to be secretive.”

There was a lapse in the conversation, Nathalie brought them both their coffees, and Gabriel watched her leave while his brother concerned himself with sipping his hot drink.

“It’s good, however, that he’s found someone.” Gabriel murmured.

Michel froze, and glanced over at his brother, who was stirring milk and sugar into his own drink. “Is that so?” He stated, as cool as ever.

The man exhaled, reminded himself that Michel Agreste was the closest thing Gabriel had to a best friend, and answered in a calm voice. “The investigators suspect that there’s no hope for finding Adele. I know they tell me there is, but I’m also paying them well enough. I think it’s time to move on. If she’s found, if she returns, obviously, there’s no one else above her, but-”

“I understand, Gabriel.” Michel cut his brother off, “What about Adrien?”

“We’re not close.” Gabriel blinked, “I know I said that I never wanted to have the relationship with my son that Father and I had, but I have work obligations.”

“He’s her spitting image.”

“He’s her spitting image.” Gabriel repeated, “Even so, I think I’d like to start dating.”

“If you think that’s best.” Michel took a sip of his coffee, and grimaced as it burnt his tongue, no doubt, “Did you have someone in mind?”

Gabriel took a moment, and wondered how much he wanted to reveal to his brother. Obviously, Michel was a sure confident, and wouldn’t tell anyone else, but it was highly personal. There was a moment when he missed his wife, as she rarely pried about sensitive subjects. He shook that feeling off, and answered, “Nathalie, actually.”

His brother did not appear shocked, and he wondered if he gave himself away over the past few monthly meetings with his brother. His eyes occasionally didn’t stray from Nathalie as she spoke to him, and he formed a bad habit of watching her when she wasn’t paying attention to him. Perhaps Michel had noticed the signs ages ago.

“She’s quite the woman.” He tried to be slightly encouraging, “And Adrien adores her, right?”

Gabriel nodded, “That’s quite enough. She has to agree before any kind of relationship develops.”

“Ah yes, you have to at least attempt to be appealing.”

Gabriel and Michel knew all about their mutual attempts at being charming, as they had spent their youth brushing off young girls at social events and campaign fundraisers for their father. They both were tasked with keeping their nightmare of a brother in check, so there was never time for stolen kisses or sneaky activities.

All of this changed at university, but not without a significant learning curve.

“If Adele married me, Michel, I’m fairly certain I could woo Nathalie.” He ended up saying.

 

**Raphael**

 

He carried down a load of laundry, taking the stairs as he did, because although his feet ached from standing for twelve hours straight, he had to get his dirty clothes cleaned.

It was surprising to run into Nathalie Sancoeur at 2 in the morning in the laundry room. She was not totally put-together-but she wore a button up blouse, soft trousers, and shoes. That was better than him. He was wearing a tshirt and pajama pants, and his hair was still dripping from a shower.

Of course, he knew she lived in the same building as him. It was completely by accident, and this discovery caused mild panic.

“Gabriel? What are you doing here?” She looked at him, bewildered as he picked up his mail.

Raphael had been shocked that she couldn’t tell the Agreste triplets apart. He mildly understood that Michel and Gabriel both dressed in boring suits and had stupid, neat hair, but Raphael self-identified as a roguish man in his early forties.

“Raphael, actually.” He had replied, “And I could ask the same of you, Nathalie.”

So now, they passed each other, he made an attempt to exchange pleasantries, she told him she had an appointment to get to and escape.

“I thought you were a ‘dry clean only’ kind of woman.” He announced his presence with a grin.

She jumped, and turned to him. “Oh, Mr. Agreste. It’s nice,”-Nathalie glanced at the loose watch hanging from her wrist-“to see you.”

Chuckling, he set his basket on top of a washer, and started to feed the machine euros. “Please, my asshole brothers go by ‘Mr. Agreste’, just call me Raphael.”

He did not have to look back at her to know that she was frowning at him. That didn’t bother him, he would just pretend that she was smiling.

“Sure thing.” She replied in the most monotone voice in the entire history of monotonous diction, glancing back at the dryer.

The man stared at her as she built the social ice between them, and he smiled, “I never see you around. It’s kind of disappointing.”

“I have a highly-demanding job, as you know.”

Raphael nodded, “So do I.”

“You work in a restaurant.”

“I’m surprised you’re not more sympathetic,” He commented, “Didn’t you wait tables?”

She whirled her head at him, “Excuse me?”

He bared his teeth at her, his grin unmistakable, “Ms. Sancoeur, with all due respect, your background check didn’t fool me.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, Raphael.”

 _KEEP COOL,_ he screamed internally, _SHE CALLED YOU BY YOUR FIRST NAME AS A DISTRACTION._

Then, he had a second thought.

“Aw,” He gave her a small smile, “You make my name sound really pretty, you know. I don’t even have a cool nickname and it sucks. Gabriel has ‘Gabe’, Michel has ‘Mikky’. A girl called me Raphy but it didn’t land as well.”

Nathalie nodded, “I see.”

“Do your friends call you Nat?”

“My grandfather called me Natty.” She replied, “I don’t—and I don’t mean to be rude to you, Raphael—I don’t really have time for friends. I pay an obnoxious amount of money for an apartment I never get to spend time in.”

He took her hand in his, suddenly, and kissed the back of her palm, “Nathalie, I’m doing my laundry at 2 in the morning. I completely understand.” The man paused, “As for the rent…huh.”

She scrutinized him, “What?”

“I mean, I really only need a bedroom, you know?” Raphael didn’t smile as he mused, “In theory, if _we_ moved in together, we could both have a nice apartment to crash in and pay less for.”

Nathalie—speechless, did not say a word as she pulled out a bundle of linens from the dryer. He took note of a quilt, appearing handmade, and exhaled at the thought of someone caring enough about the woman to make her a quilt.

“It’s not a bad idea.” She stated, “And it’s not like I don’t know you.”

Raphael nodded, “I wouldn’t want to force your hand because I’m an Agreste.”

She snorted, “I regularly forget that you exist, Raphael, I don’t care that you’re my boss’s brother.”

Ignoring the insult, he nodded, “So, if you slide a key under my door, I’ll handle everything with the landlord.”

Nathalie pursed her lips, “We’ll do it together. I have next weekend off, does that work for you?”

“It does,” He murmured, “It’s a date, then.”

A month later, Nathalie had to appreciate Raphael Agreste for moving into her apartment. He brought leftovers constantly, and left them for her. She originally assumed he knew nothing of cleaning or sharing a living space, but the apartment was as impeccable as ever.

“My father was just as ornery as Gabriel.” He had told her, in passing, when she commented on his cleanliness.

She hardly noticed him, as he enjoyed holing himself up in his room. It was shocking, how much Raphael acted like his brothers, and how much the man himself wanted to separate his identity from Michel and Gabriel. Still, there _were_ differences. Gabriel, who didn’t drink, and Raphael, who Nathalie caught crying drunk over the ending to _Miss Congeniality_. Michel, who managed the money, and Raphael, who regularly left stacks of hundred-dollar euros lying around the apartment in random places.

Nathalie did notice him, however, when she had a Monday afternoon off.

She turned the key over in her door, and paused, hearing violin music from inside. It left her with a funny feeling in the back of her throat. She knew the Agreste’s polished upbringing. Gabriel played piano, Michel played flute, and Raphael played violin. Of course, there was a rumor that Raphael constantly resisted this aspect of his upbringing, and preferred to play guitar, so this discovery was a shock.

His bedroom, already moved into, was a swirl of signed rock posters, and tchotchkes from all around the world. It wasn’t badly decorated, just decorated by a man with a young, expressive soul. The door was open, and Nathalie stood in the doorway, watching him play. His back was to her, as he looked out his window.

The woman often found it funny, the tattooed, casually dressed Agreste, her boss’s spitting image, casually wearing t-shirts and pajama pants. Now, however, it wasn’t as funny. The man was shirtless, wearing his work pants still. The song he played was a sad, romantic one, and she found herself staring at the large butterfly tattoo over his upper back.

She imagined herself tracing it with her fingers, and she must’ve let out a breath, because he immediately stopped, turned to her, and looked mortified. Raphael looked like he was about so speak, but she beat him to it.

“You play beautifully.”

Raphael let out a nervous laugh, “Oh, you think so? I try to keep practicing. It—um—it’s relaxing, as much as I hated it when I was a kid.” The man set down his instrument in it’s case. “I thought you’d still be at work.”

“You can practice when I’m home, you know.” She replied, leaning casually against the frame.

He noticed the slight pinking to her cheeks, and he had to wonder what she was thinking. “I don’t want to bother you, Nathalie.” He murmured, placing his hands in his pockets. “I…I grew up being a bother to my brothers and parents, you can tell me if I’m being obnoxious.”

She smirked at him, “I don’t think you could bother me even if you tried.”

Well, that was a damning remark. He took a few steps towards her and whispered, “Is that so?”

“It is.” Nathalie breathed, “I don’t mind you at all.”

He pressed his lips against her forehead, as tall as he was, “Do you mind this?”

“No.” Nathalie answered, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him closer.

And then, he bent down and kissed her, and found that he didn’t want to stop. Thankfully, Nathalie didn’t mind that, either.

 

**Michel**

“Something has to be done about Gabriel.” He announced to Raphael, as he sat down at the bar. He watched as his brother poured him his drink of choice (a coffee reduced to froth). It was an hour before the restaurant as set to open for the day.

He enjoyed Raphael’s company at ten in the morning, as he glanced through the weekly financial report. Sales were picking up at a consistent rate, so there was less to talk about.

“What’s wrong, Mikky?”

 Ten years ago, the man would’ve worried about Raphael telling Gabriel. Now, however, Raphael and Gabriel were simply too busy to speak to each other often.

Michel breathed out, “He wants to date _Nathalie._ ”

His brother gave him a pained look, “Ah, I see the problem.”

“And we _know_ Gabriel. Even if I told him I liked his assistant he’d tell me that it would be a breach of work ethics, which is hypocritical of him, which he’d _ignore._ ” Michel ranted, “And if I dated her it wouldn’t be. I don’t manage his company’s finances whatsoever. I only manage the family and your restaurant.”

Raphael took in a sharp breath, “You could always see her in secret. I’m sure she wouldn’t want to tell Gabriel if you two started dating.”

“I can’t do that to my brother.” Michael stated firmly, taking a spoonful of the hot coffee foam and swallowing. He really did believe in his brother’s business. “He’s had it hard enough.”

The bartender nodded, “I don’t know what to tell you then to try to beat Gabe to the punch.” Raphael smiled, “Though, Gabe typically gets the best of both of us.”

Michel sighed, “I know. He said that if Adele came back, that would be the end of things, but he’s lost hope.”

“He’s not one for hoping, Mikky, you know that.”

 

‘Mikky’ in question, arrived at the Agreste mansion when he knew Gabriel would be out on a business meeting. Nathalie was home, of course, and buzzed him in.

“Gabriel’s out, and so is Adrien, I’m afraid.” She told him, “What was it you needed?”

The man offered her a kind smile, “I actually wanted something from storage. My father’s watch.”

Her eyebrows raised, “Are you sure Gabriel doesn’t have it in his own possessions?”

“Yes,” Michel answered, “Gabe doesn’t discuss it, and it may come as a surprise, but he didn’t have the best relationship with our father. He wouldn’t keep anything of Oscar’s near him.”

Nathalie nodded, and he felt a surge of joy. It was easy, to slip in subversive things concerning Gabriel to his assistant. His brother was a pain in her ass, most likely. He followed her to a small closet, where she unlocked a small safe to retrieve the large set of keys, the bundle about the size of her entire hand. They headed up the service stairs, all the way to the attic, where Nathalie unlocked the door, and they headed inside.

There were several rooms within the attic, and she turned back to Michel, and he was suddenly aware that they were very alone. It did not occur to him as they passed the half dozen bedrooms on the way up to the attic, however.

“Do you know where it would be?”

Nodding, he started picking his way through boxes, moving them aside for about twenty minutes. Nathalie moved to help him, but he looked at her, “Nathalie, I can carry boxes, you don’t need to lift a finger for me.”

“It’s fine, sir.”

“And I understand that, but you don’t work for me.” He replied, “I won’t mind if you just want to stand here and ignore your job for half an hour.”

“And none of this ‘sir’ business. Christ, Nathalie, you could call me a jackass and I wouldn’t bat an eye.” He added, trying not to give too much of himself away.

That elicited a small smile out of the woman, and she sat on a box, and crossed her legs. “So, why do you want this watch?”

“It’s a Waterford, actually.” Michel answered smoothly, “And I have a client who was very close to Oscar, so I thought I’d give it to him for his birthday, as my father would’ve liked that.”

When he finally came across the wooden chest he had been searching for, he turned to Nathalie. She pursed her lips, and stated, “I don’t have a key here for that chest.”

That didn’t surprise Michel Agreste in the slightest. The next thing would however.

Nathalie Sancoeur pulled out the bobby pins keeping her bun in place, and her hair fell down her back in red and black tresses. He had to remind himself to breath as she bent over to pick the lock, her hair and curves beyond all things distracting.

He glanced away, “I didn’t realize you knew how to pick locks, Nathalie.”

She hummed back, “To tell you the truth, I didn’t have the polished upbringing my boss thinks I had.”

“Is that so?”

She cringed at some thought, and chest popped open, “If you can keep a secret, yes.”

Michel could keep a thousand secrets. He had, in fact, done just that.

The woman stood, and stepped aside as Michel knelt down to rifle through the assortment of his father’s most personal possessions. He found the six-sided box he had been looking for, peeked inside to double check what was in there, and stood.

He opened the box again to show to Nathalie the shiny Waterford wrist watch inside. She inspected it, clearly impressed by it, and he closed it, placing the box in his inner jacket pocket.

“I knew it was worth retrieving. Thank you, Nathalie.” He told her softly, “Let me know if you need anything in return for your kindness, okay?”

 

Later, when he was back in the safety of his penthouse apartment, he would open the box, take out the Waterfood, and pull up the velvet cardboard. He touched the brooch, and immediately, the purple kwami flew out, dazed and confused.

“Michel?” Nooroo murmured, “How long has it been? Where’s Oscar?”

“He passed away.” Michel replied, pinning the brooch to his breast, “It’s been ten years.”

The kwami looked nervously at him. After all, Oscar had used the kwami to rig elections in the man’s favor. He had no clue what Michel wanted, as he was the only son who knew the truth. Oscar had trusted Michel to keep his secret, not because he was the favorite, but because he was the most kind-hearted of his sons, and would not argue with him.

Michel passed the kwami a bowl of berries, and went on, “Adele is missing, and you’re going to help me get the power I need to retrieve her.”

 

**Gabriel**

He sat down next to Nathalie, who looked over at him, shocked that he was even present to begin with, after all, he had scheduled a meeting during Adrien’s recital.

“Did I miss Adrien?” He murmured through the darkness, as some snot-nose prodigy attempted a Beethoven piece on the stage.   

“No,” She replied, “Adrien will be on in about ten minutes.”

In truth, he wanted to be near her. Of course he wanted to see Adrien play, but sitting next to her, listening to her soft breathing, and then the sudden hitch of her breath when a compelling motif struck her. They sat towards the back of the theatre, surrounded by other families for this showcase.

After a violinist (which Gabriel just loathed by default, it wasn’t that blonde girl’s fault, really) Adrien came on. He wore a sharp green suit, made a small bow, and sat at the piano. After making a small adjustment, he began to play.

Gabriel, who recognized the piece right away, glanced to Nathalie, who was completely enthralled by Adrien’s melodic playing.

He exhaled, satisfied, and turned to watch his son play.

After the recital, Adrien was beaming ear-to-ear in the lobby as he approached the two of them. “Father! I thought you couldn’t make it.”

“Ah, yes, well, I remember being your age, and my father missing my recitals.” He stated. Of course, he had two brothers in the audience. Adrien is an only child, “You played wonderfully. I couldn’t have been more proud.”

In his peripherals, he could see a shell-shocked Nathalie. In front of him, his son looked down, “Thank you, Father.”

After this, Adrien found his friends, and Nathalie told Adrien to be home by ten, and Gabriel and her rode together, home to the mansion.

Nathalie glanced over to him, “How did you convince Andre Bourgeois to cancel the meeting?”

Gabriel shook his head, “I blew it off. He’s probably still waiting for me, actually. My phone has been off for the past two hours. He’s just shaking me up for campaign donations.”

She nodded, “Well, I’m sure Adrien is glad you came out to support him.”

He glanced over to her, “There was no use in missing it.”

The man blinked, and turned towards her as they were being driven back to the mansion. “I was thinking, Nathalie, about Adrien, and it occurred to me that you’re exceptionally good for and with him.”

She turned back towards him, “And?”

Gabriel pressed his lips together, “And it’s so odd to me that I don’t know the first thing about you, and you’re practically a member of the family.”

Nathalie nodded, “I see. Though, I’d like to point out that you probably don’t want to get to know me.”

When they arrived back at the mansion, Gabriel turned to her and clasped his hands behind his back, “I know that I don’t know you, but I want to. That is to say, if you’d ever like to pursue anything further than our working relationship, I’d be more than honored.”

She looked at him, wide-eyed at his implication. “Huh.” She sighed, “You know, we do have the mansion to ourselves for the rest of afternoon.”

The man, who had been raised to be a proper gentleman, played dumb, “I don’t know what you mean.” On the inside however, he was shocked and flushed at the thought of peeling away every layer of her in that exact moment.

“I’m saying.” Nathalie stood in front of him for a moment, and turned back, “You could get to know me a little bit better.”

Gabriel nodded, and they headed towards the nearest bedroom.

 

**Raphael**

If it was up to him, he would never stop touching Nathalie, claiming her as his own with every kiss pressed against her soft skin.

Of course, this was not possible. She was naturally icy, and he knew better than to think that his heat would be enough to cool her down. Though, that didn’t stop _her_ from trying.

Some afternoon’s (he worked night shifts, mostly) she’d open his bedroom door uninvited, push him against the bed, and rake her nails across him. His breath would stagger as he tried to keep up with her, furiously kissing her back, falling into her.

Other times, she would collapse onto the couch beside him, if just to have him wrap an arm around her shoulder and hold.

There was one day, when she came home from work, where she didn’t want to look at him at all, and this held for three weeks before Raphael paid his brother a visit.

He appeared at the mansion after letting his employees know he was taking the night off (which was rare for him, he was a hard worker), on a day he knew Nathalie had taken off, and knocked.

“Adrien, I’m busy.”

Raphael rolled his eyes, and opened the door, “Is that how you speak to your son? Honestly, you sounded so much like Oscar Agreste that I had a war flashback.”

“Rapheal.” Gabriel stood, and moved towards his brother, he then checked his watch, and scrutinized his brother, “Don’t you have work?”

“I don’t.” He answered, “I actually wanted to speak to you about your assistant.”

His brother took in a breath, “Nathalie? What is it?”

The man ran a hand through his messy hair, “She—well actually, I don’t know if you know, but we moved in together to cut down on our rent costs—”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

He stared at his brother. Then, he gaped. “Oh my god, Gabe.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING?”

Raphael smirked, “What, are you jealous? There’s nothing going on between us.”

“ _No,_ I’m not jealous.” Gabriel snapped, “I spoke with Nathalie a few weeks ago about pursuing a romantic relationship, but nothing has come of that.”

He nodded, “I just thought she was acting odd and wanted to make sure you weren’t being a jackass.”

His brother gave Raphael a coy smile, “What, were you going to beat me up? I could take you.”

“First of all,” The man answered, “I’m not going to punch you, secondly, you couldn’t take me.”

“Oh, I’ll just pull at all of those piercings on you. Is that a new on one your left ear?”

“Your ears are pierced, Gabriel, I’ve known about that for _ages._ ”

Gabriel raised a hand to his right earlobe, and glared at him, “They are _not_.”

Raphael rolled his eyes, “Please, Gabe. I put liquid latex all over my ears when I needed to hide the holes from Father. You’re not fooling me.”

That caused the designer to groan, “Why do you pretend that you’re not as observant as the rest of us?”

“I don’t,” He replied, heading for the door, “I’m just not an obnoxious jackass about it.”

 

He still didn’t know, as he was riding the metro back to his apartment, what Nathalie had been going through for the past week. He wouldn’t know for another twenty minutes.

The man opened the door of the apartment, and caught side of Hawkmoth, kissing Nathalie, impassioned. They stopped immediately at his arrival and he slammed the door shut, and whipped out his phone, and tried to call Michel.

Hawkmoth appeared next to him (placed a hand on his shoulder) and suddenly, he was in the living room, and Nathalie was staring at him wide-eyed. She thought he’d be at work, after all.

Raphael immediately clocked Hawkmoth in the jaw, sending the villain staggering backwards. He ignored Nathalie’s gasp. Then, he made a grab for the miraculous, but Hawkmoth teleported backwards, avoiding him completely.

He didn’t consider himself an angry person by nature. In fact, Raphael Agreste had prided himself on his cool-level headed demeanor. In this instance, he was practically foaming at the mouth.

“Stay the hell away from Nathalie Sancoeur, you lowlife.” He hissed, “She’s been a wreck for a month and you know it.”

Hawkmoth stood, brushed himself off, and glared at the wild-haired man standing between him and Nathalie. “And just what is she to you, sir?”

The man rolled his eyes and his sleeves, and replied, “Like you don’t know, you fucking empath piece of—”

Suddenly, Hawkmoth was next to him, and then he was shoved against a wall on the other side of the apartment. The tips of his toes scraped the floor as Hawkmoth held him and growled, “What do you know about empaths, Raphael Agreste?”

“I know who you stole that brooch from,” He spat back, “You can’t fool an Agreste, I’ll find you and end you before you get ahold of any miraculous that isn’t rightfully yours.”

Suddenly Hawkmoth set him down, and held the man away from him. Raphael was still pressed against a wall by the villain’s hand as he smirked, clearly amused. “You know more than you let on, Agreste. Very well. Consider that challenge accepted. We’ll see each other soon, and in the meantime, I won’t pursue your girlfriend.”

With this, he was gone, and Nathalie embraced him, told him he was brave, and thanked her.

 

**Michel**

Michael grimaced at the bruise on his jaw, and glared at Nooroo, who did not shy away from his gaze, as he was not truly angry. In truth, the man was exhausted.

The double life was tiring and he had no idea how Oscar Agreste did it for as long as he did. It was now, in the complete fatigue that he finally understood why the man never had energy or time for his children.

He was learning entirely too much about his family.

For one, Raphael knew that Oscar Agreste was Papillon. Now, how the youngest of the Agreste triplets happened to know that, Michel wasn’t sure. Perhaps their father had told all three of them, in an effort to divide them further.

Secondly, he wasn’t aware that both of his brothers were completely head-over-heels in love with Nathalie Sancoeur. That made things complicated, certainly. He sensed in now, from both of them, as his abilities as an empath had gone far.

Originally, he had not intended to even _approach_ Nathalie. She did not deserve to complications of dating a supehero.

It was actually his own fault though. Michel had akumatized an intern at Gabriel’s company, who Nathalie had thoroughly insulted because the boy had no clue how to brew a pot of coffee.  

The akuma had gotten too close. He had not accounted that Coffeevil would not leave the Gabriel headquarters, and therefore, Ladybug and Chat Noir would be very late to the scene. The power-set wasn’t disappointing, Coffeevil could cause its victims to either become over energized or lethargic. The brown and gold akuma had used the latter effect on Nathalie, and she couldn’t find the energy to get away.

Hawkmoth appeared beside her, and transported her away, to her apartment. Specifically, her bedroom.

“Are you alright?” He asked her.

Michel took in her fear, and realized just how much he’d screwed up, “I’m sorry—I didn’t—it wasn’t my intention to scare you. I’ll go.”

“How did you know where I live?”

He breathed out, thought of a lie, “I targeted that intern a few weeks ago, so did some background research on Gabriel Agreste’s company. That included you. I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

“You remember why I live, then?” She scowled, “You could’ve brought me anywhere else.”

Hawkmoth breathed out, “With all due respect, I just saved your life, you could be a tad more thankful.”

“And you understand why that worries me? A supervillain saving my life?” Nathalie crossed her arms, glaring at him. “What’s the truth, then?”

The villain smiled warmly at her, and held out his hand, and felt a surge of confusion from her. Then, she placed her hand in his.

He pulled her close to him, selfishly kissing her. His fingers intertwined with hers, and one hand pressed against the small of her back. Her hand trailed over his shoulder, and he felt warmth wash over her entire aura.

Michel Agreste, who had never thought he’d be this satisfied with his life thus far, pulled away from her. “Don’t worry about the truth, Nathalie,” He whispered, “It would be best if you didn’t ask questions.”

“Don’t come back here.”

“I’ll try my best not too.”

Apparently, Michel didn’t try hard enough.

 

 

**Gabriel**

He glanced towards her, from across the bed. Her chest still rose and fell, pressed against the thin shits she clutched to herself. The man dared to wrap an arm around her, “Cold?”

“A bit.” She admitted. Nathalie curled into a small ball as he pulled the cover up towards them (the one they originally brushed away in the heat of the action. The woman let out a satisfied hum, but didn’t move away from the man. It was well past midnight at this point, it wasn’t as though she was going anywhere, anyway.

“What are you going to tell Raphael?” He murmured. As far as pillow-talk, Gabriel had not been required to be especially skilled at it in the past twenty years. Adele was a sparkling conversationalist, and he followed her lead easily.

He felt her freeze for the smallest part of a second, and then, she chucked, “I’m not going to tell him anything.”

“So, it’s not serious?” Gabriel’s thumb started tracing circles over her belly.

Nathalie rolled over, facing him, and he shifted. Her head rested on his chest, “Are we serious, Gabriel?”

“Well, no.” He replied automatically, then cringed. “I’d _like_ to be, Nathalie.”

“That’s quite the development.”

“It shouldn’t be a surprise.” He told her. “I’ve always thought us highly compatible.”

That caused the woman to snort, and he tensed. “I don’t think we’ll ever be serious, to be honest,” She murmured. She didn’t sound particularly sad about it, however.

Gabriel suppressed an eyeroll, “Can I change your mind?”

“To be frank, sir, you’re a terrible father to Adrien, and watching you interact with him makes me went to rip your skull off.”

She pulled away from him, and the man panicked, sitting up, “That’s it, then?”

Nathalie nodded, climbing out of bed. He could make out her silhouette as she got dressed. “That’s it.”

“I hardly think you can argue that you care about family values.” He snipped back.

The woman turned back to him, and he could tell that she was glaring, “I told you that it’s not serious with Raphael, who is an _adult_ who knows what he’s doing. Adrien is a child who doesn’t know any better than what you’re displaying to him.”

He clicked his tongue, “So, what, if I’m a better father to my son you’ll reconsider?”

“Wow, Gabriel,” She replied. “It’s very telling that love for anyone else besides your son would cause you to try to improve for your son. Class act, Gabriel.”

“Nathalie—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Agreste.” She told him, firmly. With this, the woman closed the bedroom door behind her.

He listened to her heels click down the hallway, groaned, and went back to bed. Gabriel wondered, jealous as he was, if Nathalie slept in Raphael’s bed, or if Raphael slept in her bed.

 

**Raphael**

Nothing about his current situation was ideal.

The list was increasing by the hour. If the man had his way, his list would be worry-free beyond the stresses of working in a restaurant.

He arrived at Michel’s firm (a place he had never visited before, his brother preferred house calls) in a posh office building outside the heart of the city.

It was nicely decorated, and Michel Agreste’s secretary was delightfully confused by him.

“I’m sorry,” she lied, “Mr. Agreste isn’t in the office, and I’m not at liberty to say when he’ll be back.”

He pushed his eyebrows together, realized that she had no clue as to he was (messy hair and piercings did wonders to conceal blue blood upbringing), and chuckled. The secretary gave him a blank smile, unsure of where to go from here.

The man pulled out his phone, dialed his brother’s phone, and held up a finger to the young woman, and winked. “Mikky? Can you come out here? Your secretary is trying to tell me you’re—”

THE DOOR BURST OPEN. Michel looked as though he had flown over his desk. He grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him into his office, slamming the door behind him.

“Sorry, that was my brother.” He heard his brother make some apologetic explanation to his secretary. Raphael moved onto his brother’s desk.

 _Aw, family photos._ He picked up one frame, of the three Agreste triplets, taken at a beach in Long Island. The three of them appeared to have almost white hair. The man remembered their mother, telling them all that it would darken over time to a brown, like their father.

Though, Marie Agreste might not have been aware that Oscar Agreste had his hair professionally dyed.

“Christ, Raphael.” His brother closed the door behind him, “Do _not_ call me Mikky in front of my employees.”

“Right,” He replied, “Extra professional. Like Gabe—sorry! Gabriel.”

Mikky glared at his brother. “We don’t have an appointment.”

The man sobered up immediately, and his brother picked up on the change in mood. “I needed to talk to you about Oscar.”

“Father?”

“Yes.” Raphael exhaled, “I know that Gabriel doesn’t know about him being Papillon, but I know that you know and I need your help.”

There was a moment of silence that passed between the two of them, “You knew?”

“Did you wonder why father was so lenient with me?” The man ran a hand through his fluffy hair, laughing nervously. “It’s—um, rather traumatic, to walk in on your father transforming into a villain, you know? Most kids stress about seeing their parents having sex and I…” He wrapped his arms around himself, “I wish I was that lucky.”

Mikky sucked in a breath, “I didn’t know that you knew.”

Raphael shrugged, “Oscar told me that if I told you two, he’d separate all of us in schools all over Europe. He explained the empathy thing. I thought you didn’t know at first, but—I look back and we all acted really differently towards him? I acted out because I thought he could read my mind. I figured you tried to keep the three of us together because you knew what would happen if anyone else knew about it.”

That got a small smile out of Michel Agreste, “And Gabriel? Why don’t you think he knows?”

Raphael waved off that suggestion. “He loathed Oscar. Gabriel would’ve taken down the entire family to bring him down for being Papillon. It would’ve been the final nail, but now ‘Agreste’ is a household name. There’s no way he knows.”

That caused the man to give pause, but Mikky nodded, agreeing. “Even now, I’d be hesitant to tell him.” He looked up at his brother, warily, “What that all you wanted to discuss?”

“His brooch when missing right after he died.” Raphael cut to the point, “And Hawkmoth’s returned.”

“I see.” Michel breathed in, “The miraculous. I didn’t realize that that thing was the source of his powers.”

The man nodded, “Even so, we need to figure out where it ended up.”

“And that thought didn’t occur to you a few months ago, when Hawkmoth resurfaced?”

Raphael gave his brother a pained look, “I—well, it’s about Nathalie, actually.”

Mikky pretended to look shocked, “What about her?”

“Well…Hawkmoth is an empath, so he’s naturally drawn to people with little emotions. Essentially, why Oscar married mom.” Raphael pressed his lips together, “He’s honed in on her, and she’s being put in danger.”

“I see.”

Raphael turned back to his brother, “I know how you feel about her, and I need your help. You’re the only one of the three of us who could even begin to search for Hawkmoth.””

“And you can’t just take off work?”

He gave his brother a grin, “I’m giving you a chance to get closer to _Nathalie,_ Mikky, don’t squander it. Besides, you were there when he died. You could retrace the steps.”

The man sighed, “Raphael…the number of people who _knew_ him, the number of people who saw him wear that brooch. It could’ve gone anywhere.”

“Mikky, we have to try.”

“I know, I know.”

 

**Michel**

“Uncle Mikky!” Adrien announced from the top of the stairs. “It’s…it’s nice to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

This caused Michel to uncomfortable stare at the fifteen-year-old boy, acting as stiffly as his father.

Nathalie materialized nearby and announced, “Mr. Agreste is out of the house, sir.”

“Ah, good.” He announced, clapping his hands together, and he looked up at his nephew, who was quite frozen. “Come on Adrien, let’s get lunch.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Do put on shoes first, however.” When the boy scampered off, looking much more like a young boy, he turned to Nathalie, “You should come with us,” he murmured, “Raphael tasked me with solving your dilemma.”

She bit her lip, “Do you three ever…keep secrets?”

He could only laugh at that reply, “Raphael can’t keep secrets, Nathalie. I don’t know why you agreed to moving him in with you.”

“Jesus, Mikky.”

The man froze at the nickname, realized Raphael Agreste was rubbing off on her for the better, and was satisfied.

Adrien returned shortly, “Should we tell Father?”

“I told him I was taking you to lunch, Adrien,” Michel assured to him, lying through his teeth as Nathalie quietly texted her boss. “Where would you like to go?”

The boy looked hesitant.

Michel gave the child a reassuring smile, “I like almost any kind of food, you’re not going to disappoint anyone if you want pizza.”

“I was actually, um, going to ask if we could get lunch at Uncle Raphy’s?” Adrien peered at Nathalie, “Um…Father hasn’t taken me.”

“He can’t stand trying new things. Don’t stress, Adrien, we’ll go to The Cauldron.”

“I’ll let Raphael know.” Nathalie murmured, following the two Agreste boys out the door.

 

“You know,” Michel lied to Raphael, who was checking in on them at their table, “Adrien was telling me about his science classes. Could you—”

“Ah, dude!” Raphael beamed at the boy, understanding immediately, “You gotta check out my chemistry set.”

The boy smiled back, though, hesitant. Adrien was not as acquainted with Raphael as he should’ve been, and not used to the man’s whirlwind of energy. “Uh, sure, Raphy. That would be awesome!”

Michel watch the two of them go off. Raphael chattering endlessly to Adrien, using a slew of chemo-babble that no one was able to follow. He turned to Nathalie, who was grimacing at a plate of frozen espresso, served in an espresso cup.

“You have to tap the outer-shell.” He told her warmly, “It’ll turn into regular espresso. Don’t ask me how.”

“This is all senseless witchcraft.” Nathalie glared at him, tapping her spoon against the shell, and watching as it became a hot, steaming beverage.

Michel exhaled, “So, can you…er, think of anything specific about Hawkmoth? I’m trying to narrow down my list of suspects, people who were near my father when he died.”

“He’s tall, I guess?” She answered, “I don’t think you’ll be able to accomplish much, but I appreciate it regardless, Michel.”

He froze, blinked, and she noticed his confusion immediately.

“What?”

The accountant pressed his lips together, “It may come as a surprise to you, but my first instinct was to respond and say ‘there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help you’.” He laughed, his voice slightly hoarse, “I try to think that I’m the least dramatic of my brother’s, to be honest.”

Nathalie grinned, “I suppose this is the part where you awkwardly ask me to dinner?”

Michel’s eyebrows raised, “You think I’m the least dramatic, then?”

“I don’t know,” She answered, “But I’ll take you up on that dinner proposition.”

 

**Gabriel**

He pinched the bridge of his nose, while Michel paced back and forth. The man glanced at the clock, well past midnight.

“I don’t know what’s more surprising,” He told his brother with a twinge of sarcasm, “The fact that you actually got Nathalie to agree to go out with you, or that you’re actually a supervillain in your spare time.”

“Or that Nathalie _figured_ out that I’m Hawkmoth.” Michel added, in passing.

The designer shook his head, “That doesn’t surprise me at all, actually. Nathalie is far more intelligent than you.” He wanted to ground his fist into his brother’s skull. “What in the _hell_ would possess you to be Hawkmoth?”

_Why the fuck would you want to be like Oscar Agreste, you idiot?_

Michel gave his brother a weak look, “I was hoping to use the miraculous to find Adele.”

That stopped the man in his tracks. He stared at his brother. Then, he narrowed his eyes.

“You said there was no hope left, and I found that to be untrue.”

“And my infatuation with Ms. Sancoeur, the woman you’re infatuated with, had nothing to do with it?” He tried to conceal his rage but the concealer was translucent. “You—why did I ever think that you were the nice one of the three of us?”

Michel winced, “Look, all we have to do is _call_ Raphael. For all we know, she hasn’t told him.”

Gabriel groaned, “Well he probably already knows, the idiot knows everything. Apparently, I was the _only_ one who didn’t know about Father.”

“I would’ve told you if it mattered, which it didn’t, at the time.” Michel repeated for the fifth time that night, “And Oscar threatened Raphael into silence.”

He nodded, pulled out his phone, and called not Raphael, but his assistant.

“Mr. Agreste,” Her voice was calm, though he could hear the slight raise in pitch, that gave away her anxiety, “What can I do for you at the time of night?”

“Ah, Nathalie,” He shot a glare at his brother, who immediately looked panicked, “I don’t want to waste time playing coy. Michel told me what happened, and I wanted to know what your next step is.”

There was a pause, he heard muffled voices, and grimaced.

“Gabriel,” Her voice was low, “I don’t think it’s wise to discuss my current plans with you.”

“I want to help you.” He lied to her, “Money is no issue if that’s what you need.”

“I have money. I have a _miraculous._ ” She told him firmly, “I intend to get as far away from you and Michel.”

“Who says I’m working with my brother?”

“Nooroo explained everything,” She hissed, “And I know you, Gabriel.”

She hung up, and he groaned. “You’ve really screwed up here, Mikky. I think she’s still at her apartment, and I have emergency spare keys.”

“Let’s go, then.”

The drive to the apartment building where Nathalie and Raphael lived wasn’t long, but it was silent. There were hardly any cars on the streets, and Gabriel was a decent enough driver.

When they arrived at the building and sprinted up the stairs, Gabriel told Michel that he’d be doing the talking.

“They’re inside.” Michel whispered over Gabriel’s shoulder, and he was reminded of his brother’s powers as an empath. “Panicking, they don’t know we’re here.”

His keys turned through the door.

Gabriel witnessed Nathalie and Michel. She held medium suitcase, he held his violin case, and had a backpack over his shoulder.

“Nooroo, transform me.” Raphael murmured.

Michel charged forward, barreling past Gabriel, who immediately grabbed his brother by the waist, holding him back as his other brother transformed into a purple-suited fiend. Raphael’s blonde hair was wild, tinged pink, and a silver mask fell over his eyes.

“Raphael!” Gabriel told him, “Think about what you’re doing for once.”

“Think of the family.” Michel added, “There’s no reason we can’t all work _together._ ”

Their youngest brother smirked, put a hand on Nathalie, and, because he was Raphael Agreste, the man rumored not to care about anything or anyone, said nothing.

Then, the two of them disappeared, bags and all.

 

**Raphael**

He was playing violin again. It calmed him down.

Nathalie was on a date with her brother, and it was going to go late, he already knew.

Michel was charming, he was—well, he had a desk job.

She appeared on his bed, and he stumbled backwards, then, his eyes locked on the brooch in the center of her purple suit.

“ _Nathalie?”_ He set down his violin, horrified.

The woman let the transformation go, and collapsed onto her knees in front of him. “It was Michel, Raphy.” She breathed out. “I found the brooch and I came back here.”

The man went to his closet, through on a shirt. He realized Nathalie was in a towel, her hair still dripping wet. His mouth went dry as he noticed the Nooroo hovering over her head.

“Why would Mikky do this, Nooroo?” He murmured.

The kwami flew down to the Agreste, ignoring Nathalie’s look of shock, as she gripped the brooch in her hands.

“He did it to find Gabriel’s wife.” The kwami told him plainly, “Because Gabriel had plans to pursue Ms. Sancoeur.”

It was worse than either of them could imagine. Nathalie threw away the towel around her, got out of the room. “We have to pack.” She told him, “Gabriel and Michel might be working together.”

He nodded, placed his violin in his case, and grabbed the go bag in his closet. It was best not to ask why he always had an emergency bag packed, but if someone had asked him, he would’ve said that he’d been doing it since he learned the truth about Oscar Agreste. The habit had not waivered in twenty years and he was finally thankful for it.

The man followed the sounds of Nathalie, in a whirlwind around the apartment. She stopped when she saw him. “You’re already _packed_?”

“I’ve had a go bag for a long time.” He told her.

Nathalie frowned, “You’re taking the violin?”

“It’s worth at least half a million euros, so, yes.” He exhaled.

Of course, they both knew he’d never part with it. She found a suitcase she liked, and placed it on her bed. “How much cash do you have?” She asked.

“Enough.” He told her, “Michel might drain my accounts, so the quicker we get to get to my bank as quickly as possible, and do you do direct deposit? We have to move your money somewhere safe, so they can’t track your credit cards.”

“Agreed.”

“You still have the brooch.” Raphael told her.

She looked down at the brooch pinned to her blouse, “Take it,” Nathalie through the thing at him. “You probably know how to use it better. We can use it to teleport away.”

Then, her phone rang, she pulled the thing off the desk, and her eyes widened. “It’s Gabriel.”

“Don’t answer.” Raphael told her, “He probably knows.”

“Mr. Agreste. What can I do for you at this time at night?” She glanced over to Raphael as his brother replied. Then, frown deepened, and her hand covered the receiver of her phone. “Michel told him what happened.”

“Michel might’ve lied.”

“Gabriel would see through it.” Nathalie told him, “Either way, he can’t be trusted.”

She removed her hand, and replied to her boss, “Gabriel, I don’t think it’s wise to discuss my current plans with you.”

Raphael rolled his eyes when he heard his brother adopt a sweet tone, though he couldn’t make out the word exactly.

Her eyes turned cold, “I have money. I have a miraculous. I intend to get as far away from you as possible…Nooroo explained everything and I know you, Gabriel.”

Then, she hung up, and muttered something about sending a letter of resignation.

He caught the butterfly pin in his hands, and pinned it to his chest. “Nathalie, we’re going to run away together, right?”

“Yes, Raphael.” She told him, shoving her toiletries bag into the suitcase.

“I mean,” He tilted his head to the side, suddenly insecure, suddenly terrified. “I don’t want us to separate when things die down.”

“Neither do I.”

“Are you just saying that to say it?”

Nathalie swallowed, and looked up at him, “No, I’m not. I think…I suspect that at one point we both thought we were better off alone, and then we met each other. I wouldn’t have returned here otherwise, after tonight.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

He moved to her, and gently cupped her jaw. Then, he tilted his head down, kissing her for what felt like the first time. Everything within him was electric, as he felt what she felt for a him. It was a soft but sure longing, a love deeper than he expected, and a hunger he could only hope to feed. Raphael withdrew with a dazed smile.

They left her bedroom, and he turned to her.

“I was thinking the US.” He admitted, “Anywhere with a beach and you.”

“Agreed.”

Then, the door to the apartment opened, and Raphael stiffened, and stood between Nathalie and his brothers.

“Nooroo.” He stated, the kwami was hiding behind him as well, “Transform me.”

He felt the outfit wash over him, and felt every emotion around him suddenly grow clearer. Gabriel stopped Michel from moving towards him.

When Raphael was a child, he quickly learned that his father relied on his sense of duty to his family to get what he wanted.

“Gabriel and Michel wouldn’t want you to say a word,” Oscar had told his son, “You would never see each other again, if you told anyone. We’d send the three of you away to different schools.”

“Gabriel and Michel did not work incredibly hard to be embarrassed by a brother who can’t be bothered to finish his education, Raphael.”

“Your family is the most important thing. Agrestes do not leave each other behind.”

“Think of the family.”

Raphael wanted to laugh at the insincerity just beneath the surface of his brother’s skins. Instead, he said nothing, put a hand on Nathalie’s shoulder, and they were gone.

They would not return.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [gabriel-fucking-agreste](http://gabriel-fucking-agreste.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This fic would not be possible without the inspiration and support of the gabooty server, particularly ainefelai, who originally came up with the idea of triplets and inspired the author with amazing art, that can be found here [(x)](http://ainefelai.tumblr.com/post/157485825301/heres-the-trio-these-are-only-doodles-cause-like)


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